


A Collection of Fulfilled Requests

by Ismer



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angry Sex, Masturbation, Other, Public Sex, Sex Toys, Spark Oral, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:03:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ismer/pseuds/Ismer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A set of prompted pornographic mini-fics. These are just on-the-spot things I tossed up as fast as they were requested. It was fun!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Collection of Fulfilled Requests

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these are slightly AU by request of the prompter(s):  
> * Number [4] - takes place on Cybertron, supposedly "in the future" after the Lost Light crew has returned.  
> ** Number [6] - in MTMtE, Blurr is not part of the Lost Light crew; this drabble assumes otherwise.  
> *** Number [7] - takes place after the TFA series, assuming that both the bots remained on Earth for several years and that Prowl survived. 
> 
> Also a side note about the IDW-verse ones: these are not contemporary, as I’ve only read to MTMtE 17. Sorry.

**[1] - G1 - Ultra Magnus x young!Hot Rod - sticky/oral**

**Prompt: "Right before work."**

Ultra Magnus scooted back from the desk a bit, making room for Hot Rod to slip underneath before Prime and the others herded in for a meeting.

"Hurry," he murmured, soft but commanding. " _Now_.” He grabbed the young mech by one of those pretty gold spoilers and pulled him down, a squeak of alarm at the bigbot’s harsh grip the only less-than-happy sound among his excited little intonations about how ‘bad’ the officer was being - reversing roles, for once.

Right at the moment though, the Enforcer didn't have the strength of will to resist, even with the important discussions about to start. He could feel the flood of lubricant behind his panel, the heat coursing down the walls of his valve and causing that terribly sensitive little forenode to ache. If he couldn't get the youngling’s mouth down there soon, he absolutely wouldn't be able to keep it together through this meeting.

 

**[2] - G1/IDW-ish - Trailbreaker (x Hound) - sticky/masturbation**

**Prompt: "Bigbot in the shower."**

Trailbreaker bowed his helm, all his joints finally loosening under the scalding streams of cleansing liquid as he scrolled the washer’s pump on full blast. Optics shuttered, one hand slipped down the plating of his front, the other caressing up his own thigh, panels drawing back to allow an imagined partner access to his pelvic array, his data panel - all parts of him.

A thick cable slid out of its shutter, full and pressurized and dribbling lubricant from the tip. His hips jumped forward as even his own touch was like fire on his tender valvepad. He arched forward, cord sliding along the cool wall tiles in front of him and shamelessly trailing lube everywhere while he began fingering himself, whispering to his fantasy lover. “Yeah, like that- right there. Ah, yes…. H-Hound…”

 

**[3] - IDW - Cyclonus x Tailgate (plus a voyeur) - sticky sex**

**Prompt: "Like a boss."**

Usually if Whirl burst into his compartment in the middle of ‘facing Tailgate, Cyclonus would be pissed. No -  _furious_. But right at the moment… somehow he was really more amused, because this time was different.

Whirl’s EM field pulsed erratically in semi-shock at the sight of the other flier’s legs spread around Tailgate’s curvaceous hips… at the notion that Cyclonus would let another have control over him -  _ever_ , after Galvatron. His rival’s silence said more than enough about how the scene before him, in some backwards way, made him  _jealous_  of Tailgate.

Instead of growling and ordering the intruding ‘copter to beat it, Cyclonus narrowed his red optics and squeezed his valve tightly around the smooth shaft enclosed inside, gripped the berth and pushed his hips upward. He looked straight at Whirl as an encouraging groan trilled out of his vocalizer for Tailgate to continue what he’d been doing. The minibot had paused when the door slid open, and he still hesitated just a beat before understanding it was probably better to prove the point than let Whirl’s presence get the best of him - it was Cyclonus he wanted to impress more, after all. Slowly he started picking the rhythm back up, rolling his hips into his partner’s urging and bucking motions.

They were teasing his rival. Showing Whirl what he couldn't have - not the sex, no, but the  _submission_. 

The startled scoffing of the gruff ex-wrecker’s voice as he shuffled quickly off on his way was more satisfying to Cyclonus than possibly even a victory in battle. Whirl would never have him on his back like that, genuinely and voluntarily handing over control. Only Tailgate had that and no power on Cybertron could even the odds now.

 

**[4] - IDW (*slight AU) - Rung x Fortress Maximus - sticky/oral**

**Prompt: "Mild or implied D/s with the bigger parnter as sub."**

An immense hand reached up to gingerly remove Rung’s glasses; they were already slipping down his nasal ridge as the slender mech’s head lifted, the doctor propping himself up on his elbows to watch Fortress Maximus settling between his thighs. He bowed his chin down to allow the optical apparatus to be lifted from his face and set aside. “Thank you,” he said reverently, and they both knew he meant it for more than getting the glasses out of the way.

A small hand trailed tenderly over the features of Max’s handsomely crested helm as they spent a few long moments admiring each other. Max’s servos settled on his small partner’s thighs, waiting patiently for his next task to be given. He couldn't help but tilt his head into the touches and let his optics drift closed, reveling in the affectionate kindness he was being shown.

Rung watched his partner snap back to awareness when at a soft click from below him - armor sliding back to reveal the doctor’s silvery underplating. A gentle pressure on the bigbot’s helm was enough to guide him downward. Max knew what to do from there. His glossa flicked out to feel the warmth of the metal, teasing over the shutter holding back Rung’s cable. The soft purr that cycled through the huge warrior’s engine rattled the metal berth just slightly.

Go on, Max,” he urged gently. The bigbot lowered his head again, lips framing the shutter as it opened, his partner’s jack sliding smoothly into his mouth, half-pressurized. Rung loved this view - the warrior was simply gorgeous, and the silhouette of those towering shoulders shading him was to die for. The mesh of his lips was unusually supple and tender, too - high quality material, hard to come by. May have been a special reparation present from First Aid back on Delphi.

The hand on Max’s helm slid down to caress his cheek, the same soft but sure voice which had pulled him out of his deepest nightmares back on the  _Lost Light_  now instructing him through his greatest delights, here in their newly-built home on Cybertron. Neither had anywhere to be until lights-on the next morning, leaving them all the time they could want for Rung to give his lover and former patient another in-depth, firsthand lesson…

 

**[5] - IDW (cont'd from Drabble [3]) - Whirl x Atomizer - sticky sex**

**Prompt: "Rough sex/manhandling."**

Atomizer’s digits scraped helplessly at the floor of the suite he’d finally admitted himself to share with Whirl. The ‘copter hadn’t even returned his “hello” when he came in, just secured one of those terrifyingly sharp pincers around his neck and forced him face-down on his knees. Feeling the charge of lust in Whirl’s field, Atomizer had instinctively opened his panels rather than even ask what was going on - not that he could say much with that claw gripping his throat. He had to reboot his vocalizer several times before more than desperate moaning and whining would come out. Was Whirl’s cable… thicker than usual?

"Auhhgh! Wow, s-something musta’ got into you today, Sweetspark! You… you’re not usually thi-  _ah, slag!_  -this pushy…”

Not that Atomizer could really complain. He bucked and squirmed as much as he could to push back into the almost violent pistoning of Whirl’s hips as the slender-but-powerful-not-to-mention-notably-unstable flier jammed his cable home to the hilt again and again. Those subtly-ridged platelets along his shaft made his captive partner see stars, pleasure zinging along his circuits as he was ridden wildly. Whoever had pissed off his lover today… well, Atomizer could have gotten on his knees and kissed Rung’s pedes for teaching Whirl to try and work out his anger in such a “constructive” new way.

 

**[6] IDW (**slight AU) - Blurr x Swerve - sticky/oral**

**Prompt: "If they had become friends..."**

The chatter that night had been great. The bar was buzzing with activity - Swerve was feeling lately like he had done a really great thing by opening the place, not just for himself but for the whole ship. They had a place to get some real downtime - to talk, to get to know their crew better and feel at home with each other. It was probably gonna be a long journey and they needed to build that trust, and Swerve had given them a place to do just that. The  _real_  reason Ultra Magnus hadn’t shut him down, he supposed. Nothing could buy morale like a stiff drink and a friendly atmosphere - not even the great Enforcer’s presence. Well, on the battlefield was a different story, but still…

Swerve was forced to admit, though, even as much as he loved this, it made for a pretty long and busy shift. The sound of the door sliding down, closing the bar off for the lights-out period, was like a relaxing lullaby to Swerve. He leaned forward, his helm tapping against the bartop as he vented a relieved cycle of air.

"Hold on there, buddy. Not quite time to recharge yet." A big hand settled on his bowed shoulder, the friendly voice pulling him out of his power-down. Swerve turned his helm without lifting it from the bartop and quirked a brow at Blurr when he saw those blue optics narrowed at him mischievously. He didn’t, for once, have the energy for the tall mech’s shenanigans.

"Swerve, come on. Helms up. You still have one more thirsty customer here, Boss."

Swerve startled, and then pressed his face into his palm for a moment, trying to wake up his foggy processor. “Right, yeah… right. What’ll it be?” Swerve blinked when there was nobody across the bar. Not a spark remained out on the floor. But before he could ask what-the-frag, Blurr’s hands gripped his stocky waist and lifted him up, turning him to sit his aft on the edge of the bar.

"It’s me, dimspark," Blurr purred to him, and cupped a hand over Swerve’s crotchplate, which almost reflexively receded at his touch. Two fingers trailed ‘round the soft entry mesh of Swerve’s valve, and the taller bot lowered himself to his knees, glossa tracing his lips hungrily. "…And I’ll have the Manager’s Special, please."

 

**[7] - TF:Animated (***AU) - Prowl x Jazz (plus implied Bumblebee/adult!Sari) - spark/oral**

**Prompt: "Can't keep quiet."**

"Hh-haaa—  _Prowwwlll_ …” the broad-shouldered carbot bucked, still trying to keep a handle on his vocalizations although he’d lost the battle with the elated grin that wouldn’t leave his lips. “You sure th-the kid won’t hear…?” Jazz’ servo fluttered up to his mouth for the hundredth time, worried he’d disrupt the sleeping woman just across the wall here in the Earth Division’s HQ. Prowl grabbed the straying hand and pulled it up to press his cheek against his lover’s palm yet again, shushing him gently.

"Sari? Jazz, she’s powered down - and the girl recharges like she’s in stasis lock, trust me. And even then… she’s full-size for her model type now. This is nothing she hasn’t seen with Bumblebee." The motorcycle’s optics narrowed behind his visor, engine revving quietly at the rather delighted look on Jazz’ face at the notion that bots and humans - er, or semi-organics - could find ways to interface as well. To Prowl, the other’s fascination with this planet was adorable… and mutual.

"Of course, if you’re really that worried about being heard, I’d be pleased to give your mouth something else to do." Without waiting for an answer, Prowl used the Autocar’s shoulders to pull himself up, bringing his chest level with Jazz’ handsome, angular face, and opened his spark to the other mech. The pale blue, swirling light cast a mesmerizing glow on his partner’s already gorgeous features, which currently looked somewhat stunned at his audacity.

"Th- you… want me to…?" Jazz sucked in a sharp ventilation as Prowl nodded.

“ _Please_.”

That was all it took. Strong arms wrapped around the cycle’s back, gripping onto his plates tightly, and pulled him down. The moment the intelligence officer’s warm mouth brushed against the terribly sensitive crystal of his spark, a burning jolt of electricity sizzled through them both, and neither cared who heard what they were doing.

 

**[8] - G1 (or it may fit most continuities, I suppose) - Starscream (x Skyfire) - sticky/toys**

**Prompt: "Tension relief with 'accessories'."**

At least he still had this. Whether everything was perfect with Starscream’s world, or whether nothing else in the universe seemed to go his way - at least he had one thing that would always work for him without incident. He knew from practice and experience, this never failed to make him forget everything else, good and bad - at least for a while.

Starscream lowered himself to his knees to straddle the ridiculously oversized false spike, jutting upward from its inset position on the floor of his private suite. He swayed his hips back and forth, brushing its smooth tip across his soft valvemesh, smearing his lubricant onto the proud, thick shaft of metal. The skyraider hissed through his chest vents softly, entirely composed and relaxed - the way he’d once been as an academic and then at the war academy, the way he wished he could be now, around Megatron in his professional capacity. Joints loose and moving parts relaxed, Starscream began to press down onto his imagined mate.

It slid smoothly past each ring of his valve interior, spreading him open wide like only his massive titan ever could. Halfway down, its tip met the tight cap ring of his valve. Starscream groaned softly, arched and rocked, and carefully worked the shaft upward, past his cap and up into his belly until his hips met the floor, the enormous replica fully seated inside him. Charge raced up and down his body in visible little crackles as the fullness was already edging him toward his first overload.

"Oh, Sky… oh, frag… so close…!" His spike released into his hand, and a few quick pumps sent him over the edge. The heat sizzling across his sensornet, whiting out his vision, made everything disappear except the image of those fierce, intelligent blue optics gazing down at him,  _wanting_  him like no one else ever would.

After the charge dispersed from his spark and his systems fully rebooted, Starscream lifted his hips and began pumping down onto the great, thick shaft. This was only the first of many he’d have tonight. The kind of stress relief he needed lately had made him quite a high-maintenance lover - it was a good thing the real Skyfire wasn’t attached to his replica or he’d never get any work done…

Though, when they won the war,  _making_  this kind of after-shift activity his old flame’s new, permanent job was quite an appealing thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
